Telling Idle Tales

March 27^th, 2016         “Telling Idle Tales”           Rev. Heather Jepsen

Luke 24:1-12

          This morning we find ourselves at the high point of the Christian year.  This is the central text, this is the core element of our faith, this is the story around which all other stories revolve.  Jesus Christ was raised from the dead!  Hallelujah, praise God!

          Of course, when our reading begins, the women around whom our reading centers do not know this.  They instead are engulfed in another narrative.  The world in which they live is a world of suffering and death.  It is a world where the Roman Empire and the Jewish religious authorities have collaborated to kill a leader that they love. 

          It was the women alone who followed the final steps of Jesus’ story.  It was the women who followed him that fateful day as he was paraded through the city like a common criminal.  It was the women who witnessed his execution and watched from a distance until he drew his final breath.  It was the women who followed and observed as his body was removed from the cross and placed within the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea.  And it was the women who came that first morning to attend to Jesus’ dead flesh.  It was the women who prepared the spices to honor and anoint their king one final time.

          As soon as the sun broke the horizon that day the women made their way to the tomb.  They had prepared spices and oils for anointing, but there was no way they could have prepared for what they would experience that morning.  The stone had been moved aside, the tomb had clearly been tampered with.  Unsure of whether this was the work of friend or foe, the women entered only to find that the body they had come to attend to was missing.  Where could Jesus have gone?

          Suddenly two men of dazzling radiance appear within the women’s very midst.  Naturally the women are terrified, and they throw themselves to the ground in fear.  I imagine that while their minds were a mess of wonder and confusion, that their physical bodies had an innate sense of the wonder and pure “otherness” that now shared space with them.  They were suddenly on holy ground, and so they bowed low, heads bent, knees on gravel, faces in the dirt.  Fear and wonder pounding in their hearts.

          Clarity is needed as clearly the women are scared and confused.  The men speak, delivering one of the most powerful lines in the whole of the Christian narrative; “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  They tell the women that Jesus is no longer present in that tomb; instead he has risen from the dead.  The visitors invite the women to remember, to search their memories for the words of Jesus’ himself, for surely they had heard him speak of such events.  Surely they knew that he promised this very future for himself and for them. 

          The women kneel on the ground, foreheads in the sand, and they remember. They know that the men speak the truth, that is what Jesus said, and what Jesus said has now come to pass.  The tomb is empty; he has risen from the dead.  The women rise themselves as they leap from the ground in joy and excitement.  They cast aside their jars of spices and oil for there will be no anointing of dead bodies today.  There will be no death at all today.  Today is all about resurrection, today is all about new life.

          Imagine the joy and zeal in the women’s hearts as they hurry back to share this good news.  The things that Jesus taught were true, he has risen.  God has vindicated Jesus as God’s Messiah, as the true savior of the nation of Israel.  The women would be overwhelmed with joy as they breathlessly share the story of their experience with their friends. 

          The women tell the apostles the good news of Easter morning . . . and no one believes them.  Not one.  They come to share the joy burning in their hearts, they come to share the message that Jesus himself shared, and no one believes them.  Their best friends, their trusted companions, just look at them like they are crazy.  The women are telling an idle tale, and the men do not believe.  How I imagine the women’s hearts were crushed, what a disappointment.  The women are having the best day ever and the worst day ever, all at the same time.

          Have you ever had a day like that?  Have you ever experienced a day that felt like the best day ever, a day that completely and totally changed your life, but then when you went to tell someone else about it they just didn’t understand?  I have had plenty of days like that.  In fact, sometimes my whole life seems like that.

          The disciples thought the women were telling idle tales.  Webster’s dictionary defines idle as “not having any real purpose or value”.  The apostles listened to what the women had to say about Easter morning, and they determined that the women’s story had no real purpose or value.  Ugh!

          How often in our lives do we feel like we are telling idle tales?  Rather than living in a world where people are experiencing change and transformation, we live in a world where folks are constantly looking for the living among the dead.  Folks are constantly looking for the world to be the way that it used to be.  Theology Professor Nancy Pitmann writes that we are all guilty of this fruitless search.  She says:

“We too want to tend the corpses of long dead ideas and ideals.  We cling to former visions of ourselves and our churches as if they might come back to life as long as we hold on to them.  We grasp our loved ones too tightly, refusing to allow them to change, to become bigger, or smarter, or stronger.  We choose to stay with what we know in our hearts to be dead, because it is safe, malleable, and so susceptible to burnishing through private memory.  The words of unworldly messengers are a challenge to stop hanging on to the dead and to move into new life.  They are reminders that the Holy One dwells wherever new life bursts forth.”

When we approach those around us who seem to be clinging to that which is dead, and we share the good news of Easter, the news of God present in resurrection and new life, we can often feel like we are telling idle tales.  We can often feel like no one is listening to us, or no one really believes the things that we are saying.

          We can see our own narrative mirrored in the story of these women this morning.  Like them we live in a world of violence and brokenness.  Whether it is the increasingly angry political rhetoric of our current election cycle, whether it is the increasing violence in our world from terrorist bombings to mass shooting incidents, or whether it is the increasing brokenness in our homes as marriages fail and as children continue to disappoint, we are living in a world where death seems to reign. 

          Like the women we come to the tomb, preparing to deal with the reality of death.  But we are met with something much more profound.  Instead of an end, we are met with a beginning.  Do not look for new life among that which has died, do not look for the living among the dead.  Instead, go out into the world and look for new life in the world around you.  Look for resurrection, look for hope, look for places of peace, of healing, and of reconciliation.  Look for the resurrected Lord in our world, for that is where Jesus told us he would be from the beginning.  Remember that is what he promised, that is what he said.

          As we go out into the world today, proclaiming the Easter narrative, many will look at us as if we are telling idle tales.  They will accuse us and the church of not having any real purpose or value, but you and I both know that is not true.  You and I both know that just as the bulb sleeps through the frozen winter and then comes to life as a beautiful daffodil in the spring, so too new life rises from that which appears to be dead.  You and I both know that just as loved ones die and no longer are with us in the flesh, that we can still feel their presence and know the reality of their existence with us in a way that transcends our current understandings.  You and I both know that language of fear and hate and isolation, while loud, is not as powerful as language of justice and peace and reconciliation.  You and I both know that even though some may brush aside the witness of our faith as an idle tale, that a seed is planted which one day may sprout into something new.

          The women left the apostles that morning disappointed.  But of course, the story doesn’t end there.  A seed had been planted, and Peter eventually was stirred to action.  He too, made his way to the tomb and saw that this was no “idle tale” after all.  The tomb was empty, the burial cloths cast aside, and the belief in resurrection began to germinate in Peter’s own heart.

          Though the world may not understand us and the stories of new life that we tell, we know that they are true.  Death does not have the final say.  New life has come and it is wonderful and it is beautiful and it is truth.  Like the chicks who finally hatched in Parent’s Day Out, like the butterflies emerging from their cocoons at Powell Gardens, like the daffodils that bloom outside our own church doors . . . new life is no idle tale.  We have witnessed transformation and change in relationships, in individual hearts, and in our shared world. 

          This is the kingdom of God.  This is the faith which we celebrate.  This is the hope of Easter morning.  Jesus has risen and it is no idle tale.  Hallelujah.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Political Chaos

March 20^th, 2016           “Political Chaos”         Rev. Heather Jepsen

Luke 19:28-40 and 23:1-25

          While once originally for the celebration of Palms only, today has become Palm and Passion Sunday in the liturgy.  The whole church used to travel through Holy Week as a group, to take time and mark the events of the final week of Jesus’ life.  But the reality now is that fewer than half of us will be here on Friday night to honor the death of Christ.  So, today we look at the story of the Palms, and we also visit the story of the Passion.  It is important to remember that Jesus didn’t just go through Palm Sunday straight into Easter; rather there was much suffering and finally death along the way.

          The readings for today are so vast and varied that we would never have time to look at them all.  In an attempt to narrow our focus, I have chosen the traditional Palm Sunday reading as well as a section of the trial of Jesus.  Here I found the most sermon fodder, for here I found scenes of political chaos that seem to be echoed throughout our country today.

          We will begin with Palm Sunday.  All of the gospels tell some version of this story of Jesus entering into the city of Jerusalem for the Passover feast.  Jesus enters humbly, riding on a colt, but the scene is shrouded in political themes.  Scholars Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan famously point out that while Jesus was entering through the back gate, Pilate the Roman governor was entering through the front.  As Pilate marched into the city with a show of the Roman Empire’s power and force, Jesus humbly came in the back door with a parade of his own.  In fact, rather than being a spur of the moment event, some scholars claim that Jesus’ entry was a planned political demonstration.  The fact that he knows where the colt is, and that colt itself is ready to ride, are both signs that this demonstration had been planned and prepared beforehand.

          While Jesus’ entrance is humble, the things that are said about him most certainly are not.  “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord” is strong political language when one lives in an Empire where Caesar is king.  This is treason, this is sedition, and these are not things to be said lightly.  The Pharisees gathered there know this to be the truth and they urge Jesus to order folks to be quiet.  This is dangerous language which could lead to violence against the whole nation.  Jesus though declares that this moment, this confrontation, is inevitable.  “If they were silent, then the stones would shout out instead.”

          Jesus enters the city, and there is open conflict in the temple.  Jesus teaches all who will listen, preparing his followers for conflict that will appear to be the end of the world.  He celebrates the Passover with his friends and institutes a ritual that we will come to call the Lord’s Supper.  He heads to the garden to pray and it is then that the leaders of his own religion come to arrest him. 

          Here we pick up our second reading, the trial before Pilate.  Again, politics takes center stage.  The religious rulers bring Jesus to the Roman authorities and claim that he is doing things to subvert the Roman Empire.  In the gospel of Luke, Pilate is hesitant to take action.  Even after consulting with Herod, Pilate is slow to act.  The whole thing seems to be a bit of a confusing mess, and Jesus refuses to participate. Jesus remains quiet throughout the proceedings.  Just as one could not stop the shouts of the Palm Processional, his crucifixion cannot be stopped.  The events of Holy Week are inevitable.

          It is so easy for us to simply condemn the people that conspire to kill Jesus.  The story is much easier to read that way.  I think it is perhaps better for us to let this text challenge us a bit more than that.  It is important to remember that the religious authorities thought that they were doing the right thing.  The scene is ripe for violence.  The Romans have cracked down on the Jews before, and the things that Jesus and his followers are saying are a threat to the Empire. 

          It is not so strange that the Pharisees panicked upon seeing that Palm Sunday processional.  That is the type of thing that could result in a riot of violence.  In the gospel of John, Caiaphas the high-priest says that it is better to have one person die for all the people.  While that quote is not present in Luke’s gospel, I think the theme is.  It is better to have a little bit of violence, so that we can avoid a tremendous amount later on.  While we may not agree, we can certainly understand their position. 

          Politically everyone is trying to do what they think is best for their people.  Pilate seeks to do what is best for Rome, and the religious authorities seek to do what is best for the Jewish people.  Everyone believes that they are right, and no one is listening to other sides of the opinion.  We see that everywhere in our political discourse today.  Everyone believes deeply that they are right, and no one seems willing to listen to anyone else. 

          When I was reading the passage about the crowds yelling “Crucify him!”, I kept seeing the photos of the political rallies; especially those that have grown violent and contentious.  Photographs of folks yelling with big angry mouths, looked a lot like I imagine this crowd in the Biblical text.  It is easy to see that negative energy, and that political turmoil, reflected in our own time.  That deep anger and that physical, visceral response to one political position or another, to one political candidate or another, is a very real force right now in our world.  That is why current political gatherings are becoming scenes of violence.

          Again, it is easy to condemn those who are not like us, but the more I thought about it the more I saw myself among the crowd.  True confessions time . . . I’m not going to name names but there is one particular candidate in this political race that I am not a fan of.  I find his behavior so very offensive that I have discovered that I really don’t like him.  I know that I don’t understand his supporters.  I think I want to understand, but I also think that I know why he is wrong.  The more I delved into my own dislike, the more I realized that while I have sympathy for many who would support him, I have no sympathy for him.  In fact, my visceral physical response to thinking about him, or listening to him, or seeing pictures of him is no different than the angry responses of folks in some of his crowds.  I am just as angry and I am just as unwilling to listen. I have to admit that when pushed far enough, I am just as capable of shouting “crucify him!” as anyone else. 

            These are sobering thoughts as we approach Holy Week.  It is much easier for us to align ourselves with the innocence of Christ, than it is to find our own face in the angry mob.  The story of Holy Week is one where we all find ourselves capable of anger, capable of violence, and capable of hate.  The story of Holy Week is one where we all find ourselves guilty.

          So where do we find a word of hope?  You and I know that this isn’t the end of the story of Jesus.  We will gather here next Sunday to celebrate his glorious resurrection.  We will gather here next Sunday to claim and witness to the hope of new life and new birth.  That is what happens next in the Biblical narrative.  But what happens next in our own world?  What happens next in our current narrative of political chaos?

          Not surprisingly, I turn to the Scriptures.  After Jesus was raised, the political chaos between the Roman Empire and the Jewish people remained.  It did not solve the problem to have one man to die for the people, it only exacerbated the unrest.  In the time of Paul’s writing, he felt things were at their worst.  Paul saw the sufferings of the world, but amidst that suffering he also saw new life.  In his letter to the church in Rome Paul writes:

          “All around us we observe a pregnant creation.  The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs.  But it’s not only around us; it’s within us.  The Spirit of God is arousing us within.  We’re also feeling the birth pangs.  These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance.  That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother.  We are enlarged in the waiting. . . .The longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.”

          In the chaos surrounding him Paul saw birth pangs; he saw the suffering that leads to new life.  What if we looked at the chaos surrounding us in a similar fashion?  Though it is frightening, though it is painful, though it may appear at times to be the end of the world, perhaps this is simply the struggle for new birth.  This is the struggle for a new and glorious creation.

          Jesus made it clear that the Palm Sunday Processional could not be stopped, “even the stones would cry out.”  So too, his unjust trial and his painful death could not be stopped.  As believers, we know that this is not the end of the story.  Resurrection itself cannot be stopped, the birth of new life cannot be stopped, the time of new beginnings and change is on the horizon and it cannot be stopped.  “Even the stones would cry out.”

          As we move into this Holy Week together, let us find ourselves in the story.  Where have we succumbed to the anger of the mob?  Where have we encouraged and allowed a small amount of violence, for what we deem to be the greater good?  Where have we been stubborn and head strong, refusing to listen to the opinions of those who differ from ourselves?  May God be with us this week, as we travel to Jerusalem and to the cross.  Amen.

 

Extravagant Gifts

March 13^th, 2016        “Extravagant Gifts”       Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 12:1-8

          Like our lesson from last week this morning’s reading is all about love.  It is about that big, big, love of God which we talked about last Sunday; and it is about how we are called to respond to that love.

          We have been reading in the gospel of Luke throughout the season of Lent, so it is a bit jarring to suddenly find ourselves in John’s gospel.   In this gospel, great things have been happening including the raising of Lazarus from the dead.  Adult Sunday school just read that story last week, so they are more prepared than the rest of us today.

          Most people remember the story.  Jesus is good friends with Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus.  The women send word that Lazarus is ill, but Jesus stays away a few extra days.  Lazarus dies, Jesus makes his way to Bethany, and in what will be one of his most amazing acts, Jesus calls Lazarus from the tomb.  It is a pretty upsetting event for many people, and the writer of the gospel of John makes it clear that at this point, the religious establishment begins to plot Jesus’ death.  In fact, Jesus has gone into hiding and is no longer among the people in the villages or at the temple. 

          It is into this background that we find the setting for today’s reading.  The Passover approaches, and many sense that this may be Jesus’ last Passover celebration.  Jesus again travels to Bethany to spend time with friends in the home of Mary, Martha, and the newly raised Lazarus.  Martha serves, Lazarus dines, and Mary sneaks away only to return with a large jar of expensive perfume.  In a beautifully written scene, she pours the perfume over Jesus’ feet (a foreshadowing of his burial to come) and wipes them with her hair.  It is a gracious act of complete love and total devotion.

          Judas is there, and breaks the spell of the moment by blurting out his statement. 
“Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor.”  The author of John makes it clear that Judas’ care is not for the poor; rather it is for himself only.  He would like to have his hands on that money, just as he would like the attention of the dinner party turned toward him instead of Mary.  Jesus rebukes him, and lifts up Mary’s act as the act of gracious devotion that it is.  His time is short, and her gift to him is well received.

          Now, it is probably because I just got back from another wonderful stewardship conference, but I saw themes of giving and generosity running throughout the text this week.  Jesus has been most generous with Mary.  It can be hard for us to imagine, but he has given Mary her very brother back.  Lazarus was ill, and then died.  He was dead for four days.  He was gone and Mary was moving through the period of mourning, when suddenly Jesus brings Lazarus back to life.  Can you imagine how grateful Mary would feel?  Can you imagine the depth of love and thanksgiving she felt toward her Lord? 

          Mary wants to respond to Jesus’ generosity with generosity of her own.  She wants to give him a gift.  But, what can one give to God?  She thinks of the most valuable thing she owns, her jar of pure nard.  She will give him that.  She will anoint him with it.  And although it is so little compared to the gift he has given her, it is a way for her to express her love, her thankfulness, her joy, and her devotion.  It is a way for her to give to her Lord, a way for her to show him how she feels.  It is powerful, and it is beautiful, and it is so very perfect.

          Jesus doesn’t let Judas spoil the moment because Jesus knows that Mary is giving a gift from her very heart.  Jesus knows that Mary is giving all that she can give, and he honors her gift and calls others to do the same.  Of course, we should give to the poor, and I’m sure Mary probably also supported them.  Generosity begets generosity, and Mary had to have been a giver before if she was going to offer a gift now on such a grand scale.  But this gift was different; this was her gift specifically to Jesus.  This was her moving and extravagant response to God’s abundant generosity in her life.

          The themes of love and extravagant generosity will continue through the close of the gospel.  Judas does not understand, and he is jealous of Mary’s ability to be generous.  Within the week to come, Jesus will gather with his friends in the upper room.  He will mirror Mary’s act of love, as he washes the feet of his disciples, another act of generosity and love.  Even Judas, whose betrayal looms large in the future, will have his feet washed by Jesus. 

          Jesus gives the final commandment, to love as God loves.  To love with a generous, extravagant, abundance that knows no bounds.  Jesus will then demonstrate that extravagant love as he gives the greatest gift he is able to give, his very life.  He gives his life for Mary, for Martha, and for Lazarus.  He also gives his life for Judas, for the generosity of Jesus is the most extravagant generosity there is.  He gives his life for them all, and for us as well.

          The most profound idea that I took from the stewardship conference is that we are called to give because we are made in the image of God.  Throughout the scriptures God is one who gives and it is a theme that is woven throughout this passion narrative in John’s gospel.  Jesus gives and gives until there is nothing of him left, and then he rises from the dead and gives some more.  Mary is responding to that love, Mary is playing her part, Mary is made in the image of God the giver and so Mary gives.  She gives abundantly, she gives extravagantly, she gives all that she has, her most costly and prized possession.  She pours out that perfume, worth a year of labor, all over Jesus and all over the floor.  The perfume is gone, but her act of love remains.  Mary gives, because she worships a God who gives.  Mary gives because Mary was made in the image of God.

          We will gather at the communion table today and when we gather here we remember the gifts of our God.  We think of the life that Jesus led, of the things he taught us about living in faith.  We think of the gift he gave of that very life, so that we may know the depth and extent of God’s love.  We remember his resurrection, and embrace the knowledge that even death cannot bind God’s generous love.  And we look to the future, when all people, from all places, will gather together at God’s most generous banquet.  Through the months and years as we gather again and again and again at this table we are sustained and lifted up by God’s amazing generosity and love.

          As we draw near to the close of Lent, the events of Holy Week loom on the horizon.  We all know that this story of Jesus will get worse before it gets better.  It will grow much darker, before we reach the dawn of Easter morning.  And so this is a continued time to reflect on our own lives, and to seek opportunities for repentance.  Where in our lives have we modeled Mary’s generosity and joyously given all that we have to our God?  And where have we modeled Judas’ stinginess, and hoarded the gifts of God for ourselves?

          I ask you today to think for a few moments and bring to mind the greatest gift that God has given to you.  Let us take a moment of silence and hold those things in our minds.  What has been God’s greatest gift to you during your lifetime? . . . .

And now, with the thought of that gift before you, imagine how you might respond to God with your own gift of love and thankfulness. 

          May we be like Mary and be moved to give extravagant gifts as we too bear the image of our most generous and extravagant creator.  Amen.

The Characters of Life

March 6^th, 2016     “The Characters of Life”       Rev. Heather Jepsen

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

          Although it only appears in the gospel of Luke, this morning’s reading is one of Jesus’ most famous parables.  Jesus has been busy ministering to the tax collectors and sinners.  He has been spending his time with those on the edges of society, those who were unfit for church or community.  Naturally, the religious leaders are upset that Jesus is setting such a bad example so they complain about him.  In response to their complaints, Jesus launches into a series of parables about lost things.  From the lost sheep to the lost coin, Jesus eventually winds his way to this story of the lost brothers.

          You could probably retell the story to me as easily as I can retell it to you.  There once was a father with two sons.  The youngest asks for the inheritance early, a total insult, and then runs away and wastes the money.  After realizing he is a complete failure, he returns home with his tail between his legs, to beg for a job from his father.  The father runs to embrace the lost son, and throws a giant party to celebrate his return.  The elder brother is upset because that isn’t fair, and refuses to celebrate with the family.  The end.

          There are countless sermons to preach on this text, and it is rich territory for any pastor.  This week, as I was trying to approach the story from a new direction, I realized that I have played the role of all of these characters at some point in my lifetime.  And my guess is that you have too.

          Let’s start with the obvious choice, the younger son.  The most common interpretation of this text is that we are like the younger son.  We have sinned against the father, whom we interpret to be God, and yet God continues to welcome us back in grace.  That’s a great reading but I think it only scratches the surface.

          In a desire to dig deeper, I was trying to imagine the younger brother’s motivation this week.  A lot has been written about how offensive his behavior is.  He is asking for the money he would receive upon the death of his father now, while the father is still alive.  Plus, to get that money, the father would have to sell the ancestral land which is an insult to religion as well as family.  He is asking a lot, so why?

          All I could think of this week was how much we think we understand the world when we are young.  Do you remember those days?  Those times of high school and early college when you thought you had all the answers?  It is further back for some of us than for others.  I certainly remember thinking I knew it all.  I remember thinking I understood the world better than my parents did, that I knew what I was doing, and that the world was my oyster to plunder.  It’s probably not hard for you to imagine that I was a confident youth.  In hindsight I might even call myself arrogant.

          I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t what was happening with that younger son.  He saw how money was managed, he saw how the farm was run, and he knew he could do better.  He could invest funds for a higher yield, he could try a new breed of goat for a bigger return, and he could better grow that money now.  Why let his father keep holding on to it and improperly managing it when he, the younger son, could make them all rich with his financial prowess. 

          His actions start to make more sense then.  He doesn’t mean to insult everyone, he just means to help the money grow fast now.  He understands the world, he knows what to do, and he is trying to help.  Do you remember those days of youthful ambition and drive in your own life?  Do you remember the arrogance that led to mistakes when you were young?  I certainly do.  When I was young I thought I knew it all, but now it seems the older I get the less I know.  We have all made mistakes like the younger brother.  We have all sinned in arrogance and pride, and like him, we have most often hurt ourselves and our families.

          What about the elder brother, are we ever like him?  I think this is the role where we spend most of our lives.  Eventually we grow up and realize that it is not dreams that will make us rich, it is hard work.  We get things done, we do what we’re told, we tow the party line, and we are rewarded with a life of minimal drama.  At least that is what we hope for.

          It doesn’t take long in your adult life to realize that the world runs by a certain amount of justice.  When things are working right, you get out what you put in.  You work hard so you can live comfortably.  You save for retirement so that you can live comfortably even after you’ve stopped working.  You pay your taxes, you follow the rules of the road, you vote the way you are told to vote, and things just work out.  At least, they are supposed to.

          Of course we are offended by the actions of the father in the story.  The younger brother doesn’t follow the rules of the system and yet he still gets the reward.  That’s not fair, and we expect life to be fair.  Nothing wrong with that, is there?  We expect the good guys to win and the bad guys to get what’s coming to them because that is the way the world should work, that is what is fair.  Deep in our hearts, all of us want things to just be fair.

          Of course, things are never actually fair, and thus we enter into the role of the father.  Although it appears otherwise, in the text the father is actually fair in his treatment of the children.  For some reason he allows the foolish actions of the younger brother, but he also lets the consequences of those actions remain.  Yes, he welcomes the son home, and yes he celebrates, but he cannot wave a magic wand and suddenly reproduce that lost inheritance.  That half of the family land is gone, that son’s share of the money is wasted, there is no bringing it back.  The father can share his things in celebration but he cannot erase the mistake.  The son will still have to live with those dire consequences for the rest of his life.  No wonder the father is trying to support him while he can.

          And the father shows equal love to the elder brother.  He too has earned a share of the land and he stands to retire comfortably.  He has been treated equally and fairly. As the father says to him, “All that is mine is yours” which is true as the elder son’s inheritance is all that remains of the estate.  While he is jealous of the affection the father shows the younger brother, he has been treated most fairly.

          While the Father is clearly meant to represent God in the story, and we could never measure up to God’s love and mercy, I do think we can get a taste of this role in our own lives.  Parents, think of the way that you love your children.  The way you strive to treat them equally and the way you long to offer them love and care.  Think of the way their birth changes the very make up of your heart, and the way you would do anything for them.  We are not so different from the father.

          While I have not seen parents literally give children an inheritance early, I have seen them slowly dole it out over time.  A little help here, a little boost there.  Some kids need a little more assistance than others, and before you know it the nest egg has dwindled.  Many of us would do anything for our children, sometimes even when it is not in their best interest.

          And imagine if a child were to reject you and run away.  Would you not sit and watch for that child’s return.  When our children hurt us emotionally, at first we are very angry and resentful.  But over time those feelings cool.  It is not too hard to imagine sitting on the porch and being overcome with joy when you suddenly see the lost child on the crest of the hill.  What parent wouldn’t run out in joy?  What parent wouldn’t want to celebrate the child’s return?  Are the acts of the father really so strange?

          If we can experience love and mercy in such a way, then perhaps we can begin to imagine the vastness of God’s love for us.  In our lives on this earth, we will likely experience all of the roles in this story. We will be headstrong and arrogant, thinking we have all the answers to the world’s problems.  We will be focused on justice and fairness, longing for a world where everyone gets what they deserve.  And we will love with a fierce abandon, that throws all of the easy answers out the window. 

          If we return to the start of our story we will remember that Jesus is telling this story to explain his actions.  He has been spending time with the people on the fringes, and he is explaining that God’s love is for them.  I want us to remember that he hasn’t only been spending time with them, he has also been spending time with religious people, with disciples, with regular people, and with everyone he happens to meet.  Jesus is showing that the love of God knows no boundaries.  It is equal, it is fair, it encompasses younger brothers, older brothers, and loving parents.  The love of God is for us today, in whatever role we might find ourselves in.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Time to Repent

February 28^th, 2016      “Time to Repent”             Rev. Heather Jepsen

Luke 13:1-9

          Our Lenten journey continues today with the teachings of Jesus found in the gospel of Luke.   The theme for our reading is clearly a call to repentance.  Though this is language that we often avoid in the Presbyterian Church, it is a fitting theme for the season of Lent.

          Jesus has been busy teaching and folks come up to ask him a question.  They want to know what he thinks about some Galileans who were killed when offering sacrifices in the temple.  In a particularly gruesome and violent act, Pilate killed these folks and the blood of the people mixed in with the blood of the animals they were sacrificing.  It is really offensive.  The people clearly want Jesus’ opinion on the issue, but the nature of their question is not entirely clear.  Either they are asking him to become angry with them about the injustice, or they are asking him why those people suffered.

          Jesus seems to head right to the heart of the issue.  Ignoring the acts of the Romans, he focuses instead on the acts of the victims.  “Do you think these people died in this way because they were sinners? No!”  Jesus immediately dispels the common notion that suffering was associated with sin.  He then adds a second example, the fall of the tower of Siloam, which was an accident and not an act of violence.  He points out that those folks also were no more sinners than anyone else in all of Jerusalem.  He is emphasizing the point that sin is not associated with suffering.

          Lest people think that they are off the hook then, Jesus goes on to call everyone to repentance.  “Now is the time to repent,” he says, “or else you will perish just as they did.”  At first that seems to go against the point about suffering not being connected with sin.  That is why I think he goes into the parable.

          Jesus shares the story of a fig tree.  For three years a fig tree in an orchard has not been producing fruit, and the owner wants to remove the tree.  This makes sense since it is taking up valuable space and resources, and not producing anything in return.  The gardener though, pleads for mercy.  If the owner will give the tree one more chance, the gardener will give it special attention.  If it doesn’t fruit within one year, then it’s time is up.  Jesus seems to imply that there is time for his followers to repent and bear fruit, and then at some point the time will be up.  Like the Galileans killed in the temple or the folks killed at Siloam, at some point our time will be up.

          I found two relevant things for us in this text this week.  The first is the idea of time.  I think Jesus keeps talking about repentance when he speaks of death because he wants all of us to recognize our own finitude.  When we begin the season of Lent, on Ash Wednesday, we all take a moment and acknowledge the reality of our own impending death. 

          If you haven’t been to one of those services before, then let me tell you what happens.  Like most services, we sing some songs and say some prayers, but they are all focused primarily on our own sinfulness.  Then at the end of the service folks come forward to receive the ashes.  The ashes are made from the branches of Palm Sunday, reminding us that we are just as likely to shout “Crucify him!” as we are to shout “Hosanna!”. 

          As I make the sign of the cross in ashes on each forehead I say, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”  Remember that you are finite, that you are limited, and that you will die.  It is not uncommon for me to place ashes on a head and to have that person literally die within the year.  That is the nature of our communal life together.  As I place the ashes I am always thinking, “All these people that I love will die, and I will die too.”  It is quite a powerful thing to place them on the head of your own child.  Lent is a time to remember that life is finite, life will end for all of us.

          I think Jesus wanted to draw people’s attention to that fact.  Just like the Galileans in the temple, just like the people of Siloam, all of his listeners that day had death looming in the future.  They were no different from those people, and death could come suddenly and unexpectedly for them, just as it did for those they were asking about.  Jesus was reminding them that their time was short, which meant that the time for them to repent was right away.

          The same is true for us.  If we were to die today or tomorrow, what kind of life would we leave behind us?  Would we leave a path of goodness and generosity in our wake, or would we leave a mess of greed and broken relationships?  We don’t speak of repentance in our tradition because of fear of going to hell; rather we speak of it because of fear of wasting our lives.  You have one chance to live a good and faithful life, you have one chance to be a productive servant of God, you have one chance to mend and maintain good relationships with family and friends.  Don’t let that one chance pass you by!  As Jesus says, repent now, for death could be coming as quickly for you as it comes for others who suffer tragedy in our world.

          That chance to produce fruit is echoed in the story of the fig tree.  Jesus is clearly highlighting the mercy of God, but also making clear that God’s mercy alone will not fix our lives.  We must bear fruit worthy of repentance.  We must produce a good life while we have the chance.  Otherwise, like the fig tree, we will be cut down without producing anything.  The time is short, the tree has one year, but the time to make a change, the time to grow is there.

          The other thing that I loved about the reading this week was that little detail about the gardener spreading manure around the tree.  When we think back in our own lives, it is often when we are deep in the manure of life that we are growing the most.  Seriously, when you are in the poo is when you get things done!  It is in those times when our backs are against the wall, when the chips are down, that we finally take stock of our lives.  It is in those times that we finally get our own stuff together and repent.  We look around, we recognize the need to change, and we make it happen, we get things done.  Like the fig tree, when we are deep in manure, we can’t help but produce fruit.

          The folks that Jesus was talking to that day were in a bit of manure of their own.  They were worried about the way that the Romans were treating the people of Israel.  They were under threat of the Roman Empire.  They were aware of the fragility of life and their own impending deaths.  Whether they were threatened by the violence of the empire or the sheer randomness of a structural collapse, they were in the manure.  And Jesus was calling them to get their lives in order, to get their lives straight before they ran out of time, before it was too late.

          This Sunday we are halfway through the season of Lent.  This is a time for us to take stock of our lives, to look around and see the world we have created, and to be honest with ourselves about the path that we have walked.  This is a time for us to remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall all return. 

          Jesus reminded the folks of Israel that day that their time was short.  Death could come as suddenly for them as it came for their friends and neighbors.  So too, death could be right around the corner for each of us.   Like them, now is the time for us to repent.  Now is the time for us to change our lives for the better.  Now is the time for us to increase our generosity, to practice forgiveness, and to mend broken relationships.  Now is the time for us to get ourselves together, before we end up in deep poo. 

          May the remainder of our Lenten season be a fruitful time for us all.  And may God bless all of us with continued opportunities for change and renewal, for repentance and rebirth.  Amen.